Flash Piece – The Battle

Sometimes, in the course of attacking one of Alison Tyler’s 250 challenges I write something that just refuses to stay within the word limit. The story below is one of them. This started out as a response to her Laces Challenge.

Leather tanktop. Black jeans. Ass kicking boots.

Sasha readied herself. They were back in town, she had to prepare. She had to win this time. She couldn’t let them lure her back.

Jeans first. They fit like a second skin. Bold red laces replaced the button fly, stark against the matte black denim. More held front to back, back to front, along the outside of both legs from ankle to hip.

Then the top. More laces. Four pieces of supple leather held together with cording. Her flesh bared in x’s along her sides, back, front. She would restrain her desire tonight. No squirreling through this time.

She applied her warpaint. Mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, blush. Everything just so. Braided her hair into a whip, secured it, let it slither down her spine.

She was ready. She would resist.

~*~

They caught her inside the door to the club. The safety of the crowd just out of reach.

“Did you think to avoid us?” His voice made her shiver, his eyes twinkled. Sasha swallowed against the surge of hunger. Her body betrayed her with such ease.

“Did you think to tie your flesh away from my touch?” Alexa’s voice tickled her ear as a finger traced the diamonds of revealed skin. She fought the urge to step back into the other woman.

“I can’t.” Sasha somehow kept the lust from her voice.

“Yes, you can,” he said, stepping closer. She could smell him, his natural musk mixed with a hint of myrrh.His collar bared dark hairs at the hollow of his throat. She knew they thickened down his pectoral muscles, then narrowed to a line that led to his groin. A shiver chased her spine, remembering the coarse hairs under her fingers, his cock filling her mouth. She blinked away the memory.

You won’t win this battle if you sabotage yourself, Sasha.

“You will.” Alexa slid her hands down her hips, pulling her against her. The woman knew her weak spots and played her fingers against them with skill. The battleground was her body, and they were familiar with the territory.”We can’t do this any more.” Sasha had intended her voice to sound firm, not breathless. Nicholai’s lips quirked and he shifted closer, the placard of his shirt brushing against her breasts. Her nipples tightened.

Alexa snaked an arm around her waist, a platinum lock sweeping into Sasha’s peripheral vision, her breasts pressing, warm and soft, against her back. “We are all adults, Sasha, we can do what we wish.” Sasha’s heart pounded. Oh yes, definitely adults, adults who spent nights on end fucking.

Her body, surrendering against her will, melted back into the embrace. Sasha clenched her hands into white knuckled fists, lifting her eyes to Nicholai’s. “Please.” Her plea, barely audible over the thumping of the bass beyond the inner doors, drew him close. He ducked his head towards her, lips a whisper away.

“What was that, little Sasha?” She could taste the vodka on his breath.

“Please,” she repeated, her body winning over her mind. She flattened her hands against his chest and her head tilted in surrender.

His mouth claimed hers. She moaned, curling her fingers around the column of his neck, reaching back for Alexa with the other hand.